Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Cuba and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Robert Hood to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
The Offenders,
Yaz,
Porter Ricks,
The Standells,
Todd Terry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Scrapy,
Angry Samoans,
Kerri Chandler,
This Heat,
Country Teasers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Suicide,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deepchord,
the Slits,
Nick Fraelich,
Brass Construction,
Zapp,
Lucky Dragons,
Hardrive,
The Shadows of Knight,
Agitation Free,
CMW,
Harmonia,
Gang of Four,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joy Division,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Soft Cell,
Black Pus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Smog,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fall,
The Dead C,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stiv Bators,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DJ Sneak,
Severed Heads,
Sarah Menescal,
Nirvana,
The Associates,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joe Smooth,
The Birthday Party,
The Residents,
Slave,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.